Dark Cherry
by inkstainedfingers97
Summary: He was muttering her name in his sleep again. Episode tag for 5x02, Devil's Cherry.


Title: Dark Cherry

Rating: Teen

Spoilers: 5x02, Devil's Cherry

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, and I'm certainly not making any money off them.

A/N: I wrote this right after 5x02 aired, but never got around to posting it. I feel like there are a lot of other stories out there that follow the same basic premise, so some of the plot elements may seem familiar, but I promise I did not knowingly take ideas from any of the other writers in this group- just reacted to the episode in a similar way, I guess.

A/N 2: I'm still working on my epic- it is definitely a full-fledged novel by this point. My goal is to start posting it around the beginning of September but I really have no idea if I'll be able to hit that target- I still have a fair number of scenes to write and a pretty major editing job ahead of me. I'm super excited about it, though. Can't wait to share it with you all!

"Lisbon? Lisbon…"

He was muttering her name in his sleep again. She could hear him as she approached the attic door.

"Jane?" she called. She entered the darkened attic and found him sacked out on the board and pillow he called his bed, thrashing restlessly in his sleep.

She took in the sight of the paper bag on the desk and the tea cup next to it. Seized with a sudden sense of foreboding, she crossed to the desk and picked up the bag. She raised it tentatively to her nose and sniffed, wrinkling her nose at the sickly sweet smell. Her heart sank into her stomach. "Oh, Jane," she said sadly.

"Lisbon." The way he said her name was sharp and clear, but when she turned to look at him, he was still asleep, still agitated.

She walked to his side and took his hand in hers. "I'm here, Jane," she said softly.

He relaxed at her touch. "Lisbon," he repeated, but the sharp edge was gone. His voice was soft and sleepy with affection.

She squeezed his hand and his eyes fluttered open. He smiled that same goofy, happy smile he'd smiled at her earlier, in the hospital.

The smile he'd smiled at her right before tricking her into fetching him water like a sucker so he could make his escape from under her very nose. Her own answering smile, subconsciously given, faded from her face. "You dosed yourself with more belladonna," she said flatly.

"Don't be mad," he whispered, turning his head away from her, as though he couldn't bear to see the recrimination in her eyes. "I just wanted to see her again."

The longing and despair in his voice was heartbreaking, and she felt herself softening towards him despite herself. "I know," she said gently. "But this isn't the way, Jane. It's not going to bring her back."

His face clouded over. "I know. It didn't, this time. It didn't bring her back."

The darkness in his voice told her all she needed to know about what it had brought instead. "Bad trip?" she asked sympathetically.

He gave a bark of humorless laughter. "You could say that."

"I'm sorry."

He looked back at her. "You should be happy."

"Why would I be happy about something like that?"

"Because it taught me a lesson."

"It did?"

"Yes, it did. Fear not, Lisbon. My days of self-medicating with controlled substances are over. I have no desire to repeat that experience."

"Well—I'm sorry you had a bad experience, but I'm glad you're not going to do that again."

He sighed. "It wasn't so bad the first time around, though."

"Yeah?"

He raised his hand and ran his fingers through her hair. "Yeah. You were there."

She ignored the way her skin tingled at the contact. "I was?"

"Yes. You and Cho came to the workshop."

"Me and Rigsby went to the workshop with you," she corrected him.

He shook his head. "No. You came to the fake workshop with Cho. That was the only place where you weren't real. Everywhere else, you were real."

"You're not making very much sense right now, you know that?" she said, amused.

His hand was still wound into the ends of her hair, as though he had no intention of letting it go. "She liked you."

Her heart thudded painfully against her ribcage. "Charlotte?"

"Yeah. She liked that you give me a hard time."

"That's funny," Lisbon muttered. "Most people would say I give you entirely too easy a time." Then curiosity got the better of her. "What was she like?"

"Smart. Beautiful." A small smile graced his features. "Lippy."

Lisbon smiled. "Sounds familiar."

His gaze drifted down and came to rest on her mouth. "Yes," he agreed. "It does."

Lisbon flushed and changed the subject. "What did the two of you talk about?"

His smile faded and his fingers dropped from her hair. "She was angry with me."

"Angry?" Lisbon said quizzically.

"She thought I was wasting my life. That I was stuck in neutral."

"Did she?" Lisbon said, trying to keep her own voice neutral.

He glanced at her. "She also said my obsession with Red John was sick and a little creepy."

"I've been telling you that for years," Lisbon responded dryly.

"Yeah, well, the two of you seemed to see eye to eye on many things."

"Like what?"

"Well, she laughed when you made fun of me for saying I have a great mind, for one thing."

"So she has a good sense of humor, too," Lisbon observed.

"Yes," Jane agreed. "A little sarcastic for my taste, but there you have it."

Lisbon's heart was beating faster than normal. "Is that what you're starting to think, Jane? About Red John, I mean? That your obsession with him might not be the best thing for you?"

He looked at her sharply. "Why do you say that?"

She shrugged. "She's your hallucination, Jane. Anything she said had to have been a reflection of your own thoughts."

He stared at the ceiling and was silent for a long moment. "She said she and her mother were never coming back, and I needed to start dealing with that."

"And what did you say?"

"I said I deal with it every day."

Lisbon didn't know what to say to that.

He snuck a glance at her. "She implied that I wasn't going a very good job. Of dealing with it, I mean. Seemed to think I was botching the thing, on my own."

"Ah." Privately, Lisbon agreed with this assessment, but it seemed unkind to say so out loud when he was in such a vulnerable state.

She needn't have bothered concealing her thoughts. He could see them clearly written on her face. He cleared his throat. "So I was thinking… maybe you could help me with that."

She looked at him sharply, her breath caught in her chest.

He fidgeted. "You know, if you don't mind."

She swallowed a lump the size of Texas to clear it out of her throat. "I… I don't mind," she whispered.

He half sat up, propping himself on one elbow, and raised his hand to touch her face. "Teresa."

Her mouth was dry. "Yes, Jane?"

"Since I know you'll start to question this later, let me put your mind at ease now by saying that I promise that what I am about to do is not the product of a drug induced haze," he said solemnly.

"What are you-?"

He drew her towards him and kissed her.

The kiss was heartbreakingly sweet, soft and full of promise.

A thousand questions flashed through her mind, not least of which was whether they ought to be diving headfirst into such emotionally fraught territory without even discussing any of the ramifications first: how this would affect his hunt for Red John, or their working relationship, and more importantly their friendship. Or whether Jane's actions were, in fact, the result of a drug induced haze.

But she didn't put voice to any of them. Instead, she bent to him and kissed him back.


End file.
